


Almost As Crazy As The Serial Killer

by killajokejosie



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Angel and Jamie see what is going on first, Angst and Humor, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood spatter, Brother/Sister Incest, Debra POV, Debra loves Dexter, Dexter is blissfully ignorant, Dexter will get there eventually, F/M, Falling In Love, It isn't really incest Dex is adopted, Lies, Love Confessions, Tight Pants, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Work In Progress, but anyways, shouting in german, shouting in spanish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killajokejosie/pseuds/killajokejosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lt. Debra Morgan is in love with her brother, but it is okay since he is adopted. In this story she has already seen him kill Travis Marshall and is decidedly going to be okay with it. What she isn't okay with, the fact that she can't kick the weird tingles he gives her no matter what he does. Since he is a serial killer, that should be gross...but....yeah...</p><p>Update: added link for inspirational playlist in notes. :) Should be able to copy and paste into browsers.<br/> </p><p>Excerpt:</p><p>Back at the station I must have dazed off, drifting into a strange fantasy world. Dexter came in, beaming like someone's proud mother. He shut all of the blinds and sat on my desk. This was beginning to seem really weird.</p><p>"Can I help you, big brother?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Spell Kill Without Ill

**Author's Note:**

> I'm american, have no beta, am bored and sorry.........
> 
> http://8tracks.com/blacknailheart/almost-as-crazy

"You are disturbing my thought process, murderously," Dexter mumbled. He threw that last word in there just to be a spaz. 

I glared at him. I didn't care. He smelled like hair conditioner and fruit roll ups. He always smelled like that. I wasn't sure if he always had one in his pocket because of Harrison or if he had managed to bottle the essence of the chewy snack, but it was probably the most ridiculously amazing scent to ever grace my nostrils.

"I want to disturb your thought process, you are being freaky quiet again,"

He grunted, if you could call it that. He began rubbing his temples, racking his brain for that last little bit of information he needed. I hated this part. Someone was trying to get the best of my brother. I wouldn't allow it.

"Stop looking at me like that, Deb," He muttered after a silence I wasn't prepared for.

"What are you talking about? I am not looking at you in any particular way." I lied. I probably had that stupid ass, half dumbfounded, half longing expression on my face. That was my norm, lately.

He shook his head. He was way too distracted to deal with my mental instabilities or my unrequited feelings at the moment. I could handle that, for now.

"You are not a very good liar. Just thought I would let you know." He laughed.

"Care to tell me why you are so deep in thought?"

"That crime scene has me on edge. The way everything was set up, it spoke to me. It was way more complex than anyone could possibly imagine. Casual murderers don't do that."

Did I mention that my oh-so-wonderful big brother is also a serial killer on top of his blood spatter work for Miami Metro and his being a father? Probably hadn't mentioned any of it. It is okay though because he apparently only kills bad guys. I am still trying to understand how it all works and believe me he will be explaining it to me, but for now it is all fine.

Also, my oh-so-wonderful and darling brother, Dexter, is the man of my fucking dreams. Now, before you gross out, he is my adopted brother so it is all perfectly legal and the incest thing is not even an issue.

He doesn't know I think that way though, he has no idea about my real feelings for him. Frankly, I'm not sure I want him to know. Our relationship has been a little strained since I walked in on him killing the Doomsday Killer, Travis Marshall. Kinda freaky finding out that your brother, even if you aren't genetically related, has been running around killing since he was a child, just saying.

"You gonna get that?" I asked, the vibration of his phone becoming almost too much to listen to.

 "Ah," He picked it up and looked at the screen. "Dispatch?"

My phone was ringing as well. We worked homicide so obviously there was another classic Miami murder investigation to get on with. By classic I clearly mean weird as fuck, believe me.

A body had washed up on to the beach. These cases were usually some of the less appealing to the nose situations, but that was the job. It was just another fun day in the life of Metro's Lieutenant of Fuckered Up.

Dexter got up to get ready to leave. My eyes darted down to his ass for a split second. I sincerely wished that he would learn to wear pants that were just a little less tight and a whole lot less ass hugging. 

"Dexter," I whispered.

He spun around to face me. "Yes, Deb?"

"Do you think we could talk privately later?" I asked. 

"Yeah, sure," He replied, probably not even actually realizing what he had said. I would probably have to remind him that he agreed to have a non-work, non murder related conversation with me. Even though I didn't exactly lay out those terms.

***

Dexter and I were the last to arrive on scene. That looked really professional, but right now I wasn't all that concerned about it. There was about one thousand other things on my mind anyways.

The body that had washed up on the beach was at least a week old. It was the missing supermodel from the Miami Dade Fashion event. Cassandra Edwards. She had been quite the talented woman, known for her gothic-erotic shoots. It was honestly not that surprising that she had died in this way.

"We have ID'ed the vic as model Cassandra Edwards, twenty-two. She died from the asphyxiation, but the stab wounds and removing of her fingers on her left hand probably didn't help." Sargent Batista told me. I was proud that I had been right about her name. I paid attention to something.

"Can't forget the gashes in her thigh. Three of them. Just missed her femoral artery. If you look at them closely, the shape of an N is visible." Dexter added to the story. I loved what he did.

"The same N that was visible on the Jane Doe's wrist at the club the other night?" I asked, hoping this was where he was going.

"Yes, which means, if my eyes do not deceive me, we have another serial killer on our hands,"

I don't like serial killers. Well, I did like one, but I didn't like that he was one. For the most part I didn't like serial killers. They made life more complicated and kept Dexter too busy to function like the semi-human augmentation he actually was.

This one would be no different. No matter what the reasoning was, my brother would be on a silent rampage the minute he went home.

"Okay, you heard Dexter. I want the N on the other victim's wrist examined, make sure they have the same patter, maybe they are done with the same weapon. This could be gang related." I told my motley crew.

"Probably wouldn't hurt to check for similarities between the two women's lifestyles," Angel added.

I loved having him as backup, but did he forget that we still knew nothing about the other victim. Thankfully, I had Dex.  


	2. I Am A Monster

Back at the station I must have dazed off, drifting into a strange fantasy world. Dexter came in beaming like someone's proud mother. He shut all of the blinds and sat on my desk. This was beginning to seem really weird. 

"Can I help you, my crazy big brother?" I asked him.

Oh, how I wanted him to stop staring at me like that.

Oh, how I wanted him to grab me and take me right here on my desk.

"You can help me, at some point, maybe, but that's not why I am here."

"Explain," I sighed. I sounded rude. "Explain, please,"

"I am quoting Quinn and Batista on this, so don't freak out at me, but apparently you are 'a bit nutty' and even more 'gooey' than normal. They think it has something to do with me. They also think I might be able to help you. I realize how ridiculous it all sounds."

"No, well, maybe more coming out of your mouth," I giggled. "I don't think I am going off the deep end, at least not yet. I'll let you know, though. Promise. Especially, since it probably will have something to do with you."

"If I remember correctly you said we needed to speak in private anyways, perhaps now would be a good time?"

"Now is a terrible time, Dexter, we may be in my office, but work is not my definition of private." I explained.

He hopped off of my desk. "Sure. Okay. That works for me."

I watched him walk away. My blinds were closed so I allowed that stupid expression I got when I longed to put my hands all over him to take over my face. It was official, I was going to have to buy him a pair of loose fitting pants for my own sake.

I spend the next hour or so attempting to do useful work. What I was doing was far from useful, actually. I was distracted again and the mind fuck I was putting myself through wasn't helping. So much for me being a competent Lieutenant.

LaGuerta knocked on my door. I really didn't want to see her, not now. She was fake and really unnecessary right now. Damn her.

"Debra?"

"Yes?"

"Did you look over the Vampire case files yet? They are going to want a statement, the press. Especially if it happens again."

I had enough cases on my plate involving weirdos. I did not want to take this one on. It was too much. I was more focused on the N marks on the two victims and my brother's madness. I didn't even want to think about any other cases unless they involved simple one shots.

"I think the Vampire cases are more your style,"

"Not anymore they aren't, I am not the Lieutenant of Homicide, you are," Damn her again with all of her technicalities.

"I...need to talk to Dexter..." I got up and pushed past her. I knew that was not the best idea, but before I did actually lose my mind I wanted to make a confession.

***

I gestured for my brother to follow me out into the hallway. He had a eyebrow raised at me in confusion and rightfully so. I was batshit crazy lately and he knew it just as much as I did even when I tried to deny it. It was his fault, but I digress.

"What happened? Just five minutes ago we decided to have our conversation elsewhere."

 "LaGuerta happened. Sometimes she really gets to me. She wants me to make a statement regarding those Vampire cases. You know, the ones where all of the victims were drained from two holes in the neck? I can't. I want to deal with the N stuff first."

"I am pretty sure that you don't get to pick and choose what you deal with, just saying,"

"Who's side are you on?" I asked, jabbing him in the shoulder.

He lifted his hand up to rub his arm. "I am on your side, but LaGuerta is your boss,"

"You are a brat," I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm will full force, pulling me back.

"And you are a bitch, but we get past it," He laughed. "Quinn and Angel were right, there is something going on with you,"

And then I slapped him. I didn't plan it, it just happened. An impulse brought on by the sexual tension building inside of me. I was beginning to wonder if telling him was the only option. Even with that, considering all of the crap that I had seen over the past few months, I wasn't sure that I would ever be normal again. He changed things for me, forever.

I still loved him.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. Then I turned to walk away again. He let me go. I wasn't all that surprised since I had left a nice palm shaped mark on the side of his face.

This time I couldn't fully walk away. I turned to him and smiled.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"Kiss with a fist," I laughed. Closure. Finally able to walk away until we were able to speak later.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A boring chapter to bridge to an exciting one. It happens.


	3. I Am An Illusionist

I was restless. I had to be. My job only made it worse. My brother, who was sometimes way too understanding, made it even worse on top of that. I was being driven crazy by my own, everyday life.

No good could come from that. 

Certainly, I was aware of the added stress that came with my promotion, but that was before I realized that I was head over sensible shoes for the one person in my life who has remained consistent.

I also had not considered that I would ever tell him the way I felt. 

But, that was going to happen.

As soon as he said goodnight to Harrison. 

Or, at least, that was what I had planned. 

I waited. Left alone with my own thoughts I was destined to drive myself to drink. I also found that the longer I thought about the possible outcomes the less I felt confident in telling him about my love. He was my adopted brother for a reason. There I go again.

"Deb, you look a little lost, are you alright?" He asked after he entered his side of the apartment. 

"I am not alright. I could really use a drink. Do you hav..."

He cut me off and presented me with an ice cold beer. I wasn't even sure when he would have been able to grab it. I must not have been paying any attention. "A beer? Always. Though, from the sounds of it, you might need something a little stronger." He laughed. 

"Probably, but this will do just fine," I took a deep breath. "Say, can we have our talk now?" 

He sat down beside me. "Sure, of course, sis, talk to me," 

This could have been so much less awkward had he not just called me 'sis'. He calls me Deb every god damn time we are together and now he decides to ignite the adopted sibling bond. Fuck. 

"OH...geez...umm...fuck," 

His eyes were doing more talking then I was able to do with my mouth. "Are you having a hard time telling me because I am not going to like what you have to say?"

"No, yes, maybe, I don't know," 

"There are a lot of possibilities going on there,"

"Dex, have you ever had feelings for someone that you weren't supposed to? I mean, like, have you you ever had feelings for someone that even though it isn't technically wrong, it is still kinda gross and people would freak out about it?"

"I can't say that I have, at least not that I can remember. Is this about Quinn?" 

"No, this is not about Quinn. I would actually prefer to not open that fucking can of worms again any time soon. He has been quite a dick lately for lack of a better word." 

He laughed. "Alright then, go on,"

Time passed. It might have been a significant amount of time, or, it might have been barely any time. All I know is that I was lost in his hazel eyes. This could be terrible. It would be confusing. It would be beautiful. I had to keep convincing myself of that point. I didn't fall in love with him for no reason at all. There was definitely something there. 

"I love you," The words came out of my mouth easier than expected. I wasn't having an out of body experience or feeling faint. I was simply feeling as if I had gotten this immense weight off of my chest. 

Dexter was blinking at me. His computer like brain that had dedicated all of its time to the hunting of evil doers seemed to be having a hard time processing exactly what I had just said. That was okay. I would have probably been on the same boat had it been me in that position instead of him. I was willing to wait. I had been waiting for a long time. 

Of course, I did begin to wonder how long he was going to need and how long before I could ask him anything.

He swallowed and licked his lips. "You love me?"

"I do love you," I sighed.

"You love me like your brother or you love me because I am the one you have feelings for that you are not supposed to?" He asked in completely appropriate confusion.

"For the most part I can actually say both," 

He cocked his head to the side. "It is okay for you to love me because I am adopted, so it would only be slightly off," 

"Yes, I have already been through all of this one thousand times in my head. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, actually. For a while, I didn't think that I was going to tell you, but I can't let these feelings be. Dexter, you are the reason that I cannot have a successful relationship with another man. I keep expecting them to be as wonderful as you are. The two of us would be great together. It sounds crazy, I know it does. I might be crazy, but it is okay. I know that I love you." I tried to explain with the best of my abilities, but I still sounded strange.

"Oh," He replied. Not the reaction I was looking for, but it didn't have a negative tone behind it, either. 

"Is that all that you have to say?" 

"Well," He paused. "I..."

I woke up. What a demented dream? Too bad I had been having them for months. 


	4. I Am The Madness

The only way I was able to keep myself from going off my god damn rocker was with a beer in my hand. It was awful. I was seriously turning into a parody of myself. 

And, then there was Dexter. Who, after all of this time, seemed to be just about as oblivious to my feelings as always? What did I expect though, really? Did I expect that he would be able to figure it out on his own? Maybe, just a little bit. A girl can dream, even if the dreams are really far fetched. 

Then again, perhaps, Dexter wasn't able to see how much I loved him because there was a murderer marking people with N's? I would like to think that that was the reasoning why.

Speaking of that particular thorn in my side, the killer had struck again. Thank deities for Dexter Morgan and his sniffer nose. 

The third victim was an actress related to Meryl Streep in one way or another. She was found in a used car lot with the N carved right into her forehead. She had been pretty brutalized, almost unrecognizable. Still, for whatever reason, someone at the scene was able to identify her before we even checked her identification or were able to label her a Jane Doe. Masuka was good for something other than being a pervert, but I believed this was partially related to that whole ordeal.

I was distracted.

I was amazed.

I was trying to figure out when Dexter bought black jeans, tight jeans at that.

Apparently, I was not the only one who was distracted. Angel appeared to be, too. His distraction was being caused by me though. He was trying to understand or at the very least see what I was looking at. I had faith that he wasn't going to get inside my head. I was smarter than that. Plus, I was wearing a hella dark pair of sunglasses. I had this whole thing on lock.

"Deb?" He muttered, walking up to me slowly.

I turned my head slightly. "Yes, Batista?"

"What are you looking at?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I am confused as to what it is, you could be looking at your brother, or you could be looking at a rock, or maybe you are really interested in what Masuka is doing, I just can't tell," He laughed.

I glared at him with my sunglasses sitting at the end of my nose. "Why does it matter what I am looking at? I just don't get it."

"Do what you were doing just a minute ago, I will figure this out on my own and get back to you,"

"Whatever," I mumbled. The life of a Lieutenant was not that glamorous today, I had to entertain myself somehow. Obviously, since there was nothing for me to do at that very moment and I was still stuck on a pair of black jeans I went back to looking at them.

Angel put his index and pointer fingers a few inches away from my eyes. Then he spun around and followed the pathway to what he guessed I had been looking at this whole time. Who would have thought that he would have discovered that it was Dexter.

"Seriously? I was right the first time? Why?" He whispered.

I shrugged. "His pants are freakishly tight, I keep waiting for them to split at one of the seams, for real."

"Oh. Oh, I get it," He chuckled with a look on his face that said he had cracked the million dollar puzzle. "Dexter is adopted."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up,"

"Now, I know I am right, and I was only kidding before,"  

I jabbed him in the arm, feeling somewhat predisposed to violence. "I hate you,"

"But you love, Dexter? You love Dexter more than you would love a blood brother?"

I rolled my eyes. I was not giving him the glory of being the first one to figure me out. Damn him.

"Deb, can you come over here for a moment?" Dexter asked.

"Yes, Dear..." I clasped my hand over my mouth. "Dearest Dex," I laughed, trying to cover it all up.

He raised up his eyebrows, rightfully so. "Umm..okay,"

I looked over at Batista, basking in his case cracking ability. If only he could use that in solving murders.

I was so screwed.

***

There was probably something wrong with me when I was focusing more on different costumes for Halloween then my case. It was probably worse considering it was no where near that holiday. On the upside, I wasn't completely crazy because there was a masquerade costume party being held to increase station morale. How that was going to do it was beyond me.

Dexter came into the briefing room. "Deb, are you ready?"

"Not at all," I looked up at him with a fake as hell smile. "Say, what are you going to be for the party?"

"Abe Lincoln,"

"It is a masquerade,"

"I know that, but I have a hard to disguise face," 

"Abe Lincoln, though?"

"Yup,"

"Gonna be sexy Abe Lincoln?"

"I plan on being covered in blood, what are you going to be?"

"No idea, maybe I will be a fairy,"

"Really original,"

Batista and the rest of the homicide squad entered briefing. I tossed my catalogue off to the side. I stood at the front of the room. Despite all that I had to say, Batista's all knowing eyes had me speechless.

"STOP!" I shouted at him. 

Now, everyone was looking at me, oh great. So dandy. 

LaGuerta came in, too. Even better.

FML.

 

 


	5. I Am A Disaster

Why on earth would I take a position that required my entire unit plus LaGuerta to be watching me like hawks ready to take down their prey? Why? Why am I that stupid? Oh right, then there was also that whole Dexter sitting all crooked issue to deal with. 

"Where are we at on the Vampire case and the 'N' Killer case?" LaGuerta asked.

"I...I...DAMMIT BATISTA!" I shouted at him again. It was probably good for him to know that he had pushed me to the breaking point.

He had this terrible, awful smile on his face. The kind one has when they are all too sure of themselves and their ability to be right about everything. I was going to punch him in his stupid fucking face, right after I did just the same to LaGuerta. Why was she looking at me like that?

"Lieutenant Morgan, are you feeling alright?" She asked me. 

That made me wonder what I looked like. Was my face all red? Were my eyes about to bulge out of my head and hang from bloody cables? My skin was definitely on fire. I might as well have had the words to what I was thinking plastered on my forehead. 

Perhaps, I should have just said it all out loud. 

"I am fine, absolutely fine, um...Batista, what do we have on the N killer?"

"All three of the woman who have turned up with the 'N' carved into their skin have all gone through the talent agent Keller Franklin,"

"Have we spoken to Franklin?" I asked.

"No, but that is because he is dead. However, we were able to get a list of all of his talent. Those that are still alive are set up for interviews. As for anyone close to Franklin that might have had reason to kill these women."

I nodded. "Alright, that is a start. I don't want any rock to be left unturned. I cannot have this happening again. The letter N must have something to do with the killings. Get to the bottom of it."

"It is a calling card," Dexter interrupted.

"What?"

"The person who is committing these murders wants to be caught or at the very least, be discovered. They are putting that letter on their victims to get someone's attention. Obviously, we are not sure who, but that doesn't matter. I bet you any money that this person has an N in their name or their group."

"Thank you. Did everyone hear that? Look into it." I sighed. "Oh..."

"What, Deb?" Dexter asked. "Er...Lieutenant Morgan?"

"Maybe the Vampire case and the 'N' case have something in common?"

"What gives you that idea?" Quinn asked.

"Two lost souls trying to connect with each other. They just happen to be the two most demented people in Miami."

"That is fantastic..." Dexter took a deep breath. He placed his hand on his forehead. The only thing I could think about was that he probably was not in the mood to hunt two killers at once. He wasn't even particularly fond of doing that if he was going to end them Bay Harbor Butcher style. I wanted to hug him.

This was all so strange that I ended up not realizing that LaGuerta had left the room. Good riddance. The room was better without her.

***

Honestly, I needed to relax. At first, I thought that spending time with sweet, sweet Harrison was the way to do it, but I was so wrong. Being around Harrison just made me think about Dexter. He was the one person that I needed to get off of my mind. He was the reason that I was always losing my train of thought. I couldn't have this nonsense. 

Of course, Jamie Batista did not make the situation any better. In fact, I was never really on good terms with her even when I tried. The best way to describe it was to say that we got along until I brought work home. Okay, alright, I guess I understood that, but Dexter's job was much more bloody and he had a side job that was even worse.

She was giving me one of those looks tonight. "Debra, I wasn't expecting you tonight,"

"I wasn't expecting me to come here either, but Harrison usually helps me relax, I love my nephew," I said awkwardly with a big smile on my face.

"Well, Dexter should be home any min..." She stopped talking. She was staring at me slack jawed, probably because I was glaring at the door to the other side of the apartment, slack jawed. "...Angel told me, makes perfect sense, too."

"WHAT?!" I screamed in fear. 

"You know, you know, obviously since it is you, but it is okay, I get it,"

I found myself blinking like a damn fool, but completely unable to open my mouth.

"Deb?" That, I think, was Dexter's voice. He had a bag in his hands. I was secretly hoping that it was his costume for the masquerade. 

"Yes, Dexter?" I replied, picking his son up into my arms so that he wouldn't have the urge to hit me or be unusually cruel. 

He cocked his head to the side, dropped his bags and placed his hands on his hips. "I can't say that I was expecting you, but...I am kind of glad that you are here,"

"Why would you say that?" I backed up.

"Stick around, maybe you will find out,"


	6. So Much For Amazing

Dexter stood across from me, still holding his bag. I was desperately waiting for him to say something else, anything else. He was practically leading me on by not going any further. He just stared at me. How incredibly rude?

"Dexter, are you in there?" I asked, reaching out to jokingly knock on his head.

He snapped out of whatever weird, potentially dark passenger related daze he was in and actually made legitimate eye contact with me. That was what I had been waiting for, even more than the nonsense of him elaborating on his prior comment.

"Sorry, I just, I don't know," He sighed. "I did have a rather interesting breakthrough on the case though,"

"The case? Which case? There are two cases, Dex."

"Were two cases, turns out that they really are connected, just not in the way that you think." Dexter explained.

I sat down, sat Harrison down, and looked back up at my adopted brother. I was really looking forward to hearing what he had to say about this. Plus, hopefully, the connection of the Vampire case and the N killer case would make the workload smaller, but my luck, probably not.

"Essentially, there is only one murderer in this case," He added.

I blinked like a moron, again. "What the fuck?"

"The killer is a woman, who has multiple personality disorder, named Kelly Killen," His words came out so simply I almost thought he was lying.

"What the fuck?"

"She apparently is four people, according to her sister Nicole Killen, who I spoke to today. She works at the costume shop, for the record."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You have to be full of shit. Why would someone you just met give up all of that information?"

Dexter paused. He sat down beside me and dug a small piece of paper out of his pocket. "She also gave me her phone number, but that is for another discussion. Turns out she found me attractive and when I told her what I did for a living, she spilled her guts to me."

"Holy shit, we can close the case right away!"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no we can't. See, Kelly has at least four aliases...er, personalities, so finding her is going to be even harder. Not to mention, Nicole hasn't seen her since the killings started."

"Then how does she know it is her sister?"

"They are family. She knows her. They grew up together. Kelly also has motives to kill the women, and Franklin, and those that were drained of all of their blood." He looked at Jamie who was now holding Harrison. His eyes kind of spoke to her, telling her to put him to bed. I had actually kind of wondered why she hadn't made an effort to do that yet. "This isn't the first time she has drained blood and one of her personalities is an aspiring actress who loved Franklin."

"Oh,"

"But, it is a start, which is better than where we were at the briefing," Dexter noted.

"Definitely. Now, are you going to kill her before we get a chance to take her down?" I asked.

"No, I am going to try to hold back, for you," His words shook me. He was going to go against his infamous dark passenger for me and Miami Metro. Damn.

I leaned against him. He was warm for a number of decent and awful reasons. He wrapped an arm around me and leaned his head against mine. This was nice. This I could handle.

The silence grew. I was used to it. Sometimes Dexter was distant. I had dealt with it for almost my entire life. This was a bit more interesting. He gave me a tight squeeze and a kiss on the top of my head. Perhaps, now was as good a time as any, especially since I knew I wasn't having another one of my freaky-nasty dreams.

He took my hand. I didn't know where he was going. I let it happen, despite my confusion. 

A part of me feared that he read my thoughts. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. 

"Dex," I muttered.

"Yes, Deb?" He whispered back.

I sat back up and looked him in the eyes. "I..."

"You what?" He said with such wonder.

"I..." The words wouldn't come out.

He nodded. I had no idea why he was nodding. Maybe I really was communicating without words. Either that, or Angel told him what was going on. If that was the case, I was going to kill Angel, revive him, and then kill him again.

Dexter grabbed my chin. "It is okay, you can tell me anything, you don't judge me for my darkness, so I could never judge you for anything in that brilliantly crazy brain of yours,"

I still couldn't speak, but now it was because he was being so sweet. Ugh.

 


End file.
